A land of contrasts
Good day to you all. How have we been keeping since we last spoke? I suppose much of this depends on where in the world you are reading from. Our Southern Hemisphere readers have been warming up nicely as we count down to the festive season. And “oop North”? A lot chillier, I imagine. Seeing all the bobble hats and gloves at the Premier League just gives me the shivers.
To escape the thoughts of any shivers, we have been exploring more of WA. Somewhere that is a firm favourite for us (and thousands of others), and somewhere new for us. Last time we spoke I was writing about The Wheatbelt and Margaret River.
Rottnest Island
Today, we explore Rottnest Island and Ferguson Valley, two places that could not be much different to each other. Our visit to “Rotto” was to celebrate Mrs C’s birthday. Everybody who knows the island will not be able to think of it without bringing to mind small, little, furry marsupials. Quokkas have become world famous as everyone from me and Victoria, to Rafael Nadal attempt to get a selfie with them. Here is a shot from a trip a few years ago…
The Land of the Quokkas
When we first started visting Rottnest the quokkas were quite elusive and we had to cycle deep into the island to catch a glimpse. Over the years, this has changed a lot and now they meet you off the ferry and offer to carry your bags for you. OK, maybe that is stretching the truth a bit, but they are now ubiqitous and are very relaxed around humans. I did honestly see one eating a fried chicken drumstick. I am not sure what that will be doing to her tiny insides.
With the only traffic on Rottnest being the tourist bus, and having no natural predators on the island, quokkas are free to roam and basically do as they please. Which usually means running around your feet as you munch on your fish and chips in the pub.
Rottnest by (e)Bike
To burn off lunch, the absolute best way to see Rottnest is by bicycle. But not any old bicycle. On Victoria’s first visit to the island I told her, (which I thought was true from memory), that the island is relatively flat, and a normal push iron would do the trick. Well, it did. Until the first hill. And then the second. And third, fourth, and…
You get the picture. It wasn’t as flat as I remembered, and learning from that experience, we always hire electric bikes now. What a difference. Effortlessly gliding up the hills, and free wheeling down, the whole island is now your oyster.
An island that has to be seen to be believed. Imagine beaches and a sea that would only look real in a painting. Even that does not really do it justice. It is breathtaking. Perfect bays, secluded beaches, and a cobalt blue sea that looks very inviting. Inviting that is until you dip your toes in it. Even as warm as the day was, I was not ready to start experimenting with the Wim Hof method.
Sundowners on the Island
What I was happy to experiment with was the Happy Hour. There are not many things in life better than sat on a comfortabe seat, on the beach, sand in your toes, cold drink in hand as the sun sets. It is a gift that never gets old. A gift that gives you a pause for thought, to remind yourself to be grateful for this amazing planet.
We had two nights on Rottnest, once again staying at the exquisite Hotel Samphire. Two nights is never enough, but we can console ourselves that we are only a 30 minute ferry ride away. An island on our doorstep that always leaves you feeling you have been on an actual holiday. We will be back over in early 2024, showcasing the island to our visitors from the UK. When did you last ride a bike, Jane?
From Sand to the South West
In a land of contrasts, there is no contrast quiet as big as the island life of Rottnest, and the rural life of South West Australia. We were headed somewhere new for us. Described by a friend as a “small Margaret River”, we were very excisted to explore. Once again, Victoria hit the jackpot in finding us accommodation. We had two nights in “Minnie”, an off grid cabin on Skating Goose Farm.
I would have been happy just to sit on the deck with a bottle of wine, and follow the arc of the sun across the summer sky.
Wine Tasting in the Ferguson Valley
The bottle of wine would have to wait, we had wine tastings to explore. And we had some great wine tastings. The vineyards and wineries we visited were excellent. And busy. Driving around the quiet roads of Ferguson Valley, through towns such as Dardanup, you could be excused for thinking you were the only ones there. Where is everyone, you ask yourself? And then you arrive at a cellar door.
Ah, this is where everyone is. We braced ourselves for the inevitable question, “have you got a booking?” And we weren’t disppointed. We had no booking, but at Green Door wines we managed to get the only unreserved table for a lunch platter and a wine tasting.
Our second tasting was at Willow Bridge, just up the road. This was quieter, with us being the only visitors. I think Jules on the cellar door was just glad to have someone to talk to. We tasted the whole range of wines, with me being the designated “spitter”, as I was the skipper for the day.
In wine country, you will see signs asking “who is the skipper?”, conscious that when wine tasting it is all too easy to drink more than you should when driving. So, using the spitton, I was able to fully taste all the wines, without drinking them. Victoria seemed to be enjoying herself, and one hour turned into two as we were supplied with wine, and regaled with stories from Jules. She was hilarious.
Back for BBQ
Maybe it was a ploy by Jules, to ply Victoria with wine, so she purchased a few bottles. What Jules did not know was, Victoria will buy wines, regardless of whether she has been drinking, and we subsequently left with a box of 6 excellent wines.
On the way back to the cabin we called in at Wild Bull brewery and had a middy of craft beer each. I love these local breweries that you find in the country. Always so rustic. So welcoming. And a great range of craft beers. Wild Bull was no exception. But, one beer was all we could allow ourselves as we had a t-bone at home, waiting to be barbecued.
Gnomesville, Seriously
Can you imagine a tourist attraction that is just thousands of gnomes by the side of the road? In Ferguson Valley, Gnomesville is an actual place, signposted all over the valley for tourists. What started out as a bit of fun, and one gnome, has become one of Australia’s top 100 tourist attractions. I am not sure whether this is weird for Australia, or weird for the tourists. It has to be seen to be believed. Thousands of gnomes, brought from all over the world, all keeping themselves company in the forest. Some even have their own homes!
Farewell to Ferguson Valley
Like all good trips, this one was over way too soon. Two nights were a great taster of what the Valley has to offer and we are sure to be back. Before heading home we called into St Aidan’s winery for a tasting. That we got there at 10.59am, before they were even open, turned out to be a master stroke. Again, without a booking, there were few tables left. We sat by the window and as we waited for our wines, the cellar door soon filled up. Where do all these people come from?
The drive back to Perth was via Brugan Brewery, another new one for us, for a classic pub lunch of chicken parmi for me and chicken schnitty for Victoria. A great way to round out a great weekend.
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